Natsuki
by Urban Cowboy
Summary: Where do you hide when nowhere is safe? Who do you trust when everyone is a stranger? What do you do when those who have persecuted you need you the most?


Natsuki

Chapter One

Awake

November, 2279

Bullets whined past Natsuki like angry hornets seeking flesh and yet she stood in the middle of it all like a rock in the center of a hurricane. Her attention not focused on the extraordinary danger of the situation, but on the street in front of her. Even in the best of times the streets of downtown Tokyo were usually chocked with cars, busy to the point of chaotic. The cars were still there but empty of people. Thankfully, the owners had run for cover when the shooting started.

Only a few minutes ago, the sidewalks swelled with people, cars weaving in and out of traffic legally able and otherwise, horns blared, mixed with the excited yells of impatient drivers always late for something. But the appearance of the heavily armed police and the subsequent, sudden eruption of gunfire scared all the civilians into hiding leaving the streets mostly clear of life. All around Natsuki were driverless vehicles dotting the streets; some of them still had their engines running, the owners never bothering to turn them off, too panicked to realize their vehicles were still running.

To be sure, Natsuki wasn't alone. Takeda was ten meters in front of her, hunkered behind an illegally parked taxi firing back at the ever increasing number of armed enemies. They were the Japanese Rapid Response Police ironically there trying to stop them from defusing a bomb set to explode inside the building behind her that she and Takeda were trying to get into. Behind her on top of the large building were a different set of enemies and although at that moment she and Takeda were not molested by them, she knew that this was only because they wanted her to get inside.

The building in question was none other than the Diet, bar none, the most important of Japan's federal buildings. Inside were several dozen hostages and the bomb primed to explode long before she could intervene for Takeda's sake should she choose to save the hostages. Takeda himself was helplessly pinned down as surely as a butterfly in a display case. To save him meant the loss of innocent strangers. But to save those strangers meant to forfeit the life of a dear friend. Once again, Natsuki found herself as a victim of fate; forced to make a decision that offered two equally terrible consequences.

She spared another look at Takeda, now caught in a pincer movement from the heavily armed policemen on the street and unknown snipers on the rooftops. He continued firing his machine pistol towards the horde of advancing enemies, intentionally missing, trying to get them to stay behind cover to buy Natsuki time. He turned to her, their eyes meeting. "Go!" He yelled, while waving his free hand towards the building. "Save them!"

Natsuki ran inside without looking back. If he was willing to die to save the innocent strangers, then she decided that she could do no less but make sure that at least he didn't die in vain. As she navigated the elegant hallways, she hoped that this would not be the last time she saw him alive.

Two men hastily made their way past the entrance, steering their gurney ahead of them past the unusually crowded hospital. It was anarchy inside, doctors and nurses rushed past each other at full speed neither pausing and only moving out of the way to avoid collision, the common order abolished by the fear that the morning's terrorist attack would be repeated in other outlining cities. They did not know that the perpetrators of the Diet bombing had no intention of spilling anymore blood but that knowledge would bring little comfort for many had been injured, and many more had died.

The men slogged on, one a high-ranking officer of the Civilian Police Force, and the other was an orderly assigned to push the gurney that had an unconscious woman on it. Her face purposely obscured by a blanket so her identity would remain hidden for her own safety. The police officer wanted no one to know who she was lest a riot would all but certainly start in the hallways. There were fringe benefits to the panic around the two men, for no one bothered to ask them who their charge was as they made their way to the basement elevators.

When she finally awoke, pain racked her entire body; she didn't know where she was. Worse, she didn't know who she was. She was both dizzy and dehydrated. She licked her lips and tasted the coppery sensation of blood. The first word out of her mouth was "water" but her voice was too low to be heard. There was a man down the hallway sobbing wildly, punctuated with incoherent ramblings; he was so wracked by the loss of his youngest daughter not yet thirteen years old. Because of this and more, her request was lost among the more prevalent sounds of chaos. Without a mirror, she couldn't see that all across her body were bruises of mysterious origins, not a single one would be accounted for. She dove deep into the realms of her memory, but it was a wasted effort. Her mind was as dark and hostile as the bottom of the ocean. Her identity a complete mystery; she was a stranger to herself.

She became more aware and realized that she was moving without a will of her own and it was then that she realized that she was on a gurney and that she could not move. Her limbs had been strapped down to prevent her from making more than basic movements to ensure circulation of blood. The hard leather of the straps was very uncomfortable biting into her, these chafed her raw skin. Suppressing her anxiety, she opened her eyes, only to learn that her sight has been taken away from her by a heavy black sheet; perfectly restricting her vision. It covered her face and added difficulty to breathing, threatening to suffocate her. Above her, the two men were talking about her, unaware that she was awake. Despite her pain, she indulged in their error and listened in on their conversation. Ahead of them came the sound of rapid footsteps, someone quickly approaching them.

"Hey you, are you from Rapid Response?" An old man asked he, was one of the men pushing Natsuki.

"Yes sir." The young man replied.

"Tell me what happened."

"At twelve thirty pm we got a tip from a Mumbler, male, most likely in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He said that the Diet was going to be blown up by the NFA at one pm. He gave us perfect descriptions of this woman along with another attacker, male, around twenty-three or twenty four years old with black spiky hair. He said that the man was Takeda. According to our source this woman here, is named Natsuki. No surnames and no matches in the system for either one of them. Calls were made to the onsite security office, but no one picked up the phones. I was sent along with fourteen men to investigate and negotiate a possible peaceful surrender with the attackers."

"Who sent you and your men?"

"It was the Deputy's call sir. He thought if we showed up in uniform we could reach a settlement. He was wrong; we were fired upon when we got into range. I lost several of my men to sniper fire. We recognized Takeda and Natsuki from the tip. This lady and her man were at the south side entrance, trying to get in through the staff entrance. Takeda was on the streets, possibly covering the rear."

"Did either Natsuki or Takeda start firing at you?"

"No, there were armed attackers stationed on the rooftops and they started shooting at us. We never did get a good look at them; we weren't warned about these other attackers either. Whoever they were they killed two officers from my strike team. When the shooting started, citizens ran for cover, we returned fire as best as we could. When we shot at Takeda he fired back but thankfully he was a lousy shot; he didn't hit any of us. He and the snipers got away. So did the woman, at least until we found her in an alley."

"You found her in the alley?"

"Yes sir. She was unarmed and unconscious. I can only assume that someone beat her up while she was trying to escape and that person ran away. Possibly took her weapons too."

"Tell me, do we have any other evidence that they are with the NFA?"

"We have rifle shells fired from Rattlers but nothing concrete. They must have been wearing gloves because there were no fingerprints. I'm not convinced that they were with the NFA. Maybe the informant was wrong. This isn't their method of operation, no phone calls were made, no demands were given, this is something bigger than what it looks, Chief."

"Whether I can handle this or not is my call to make. What else can you tell me?"

"Nothing, if she's with the NFA, she's kept her nose clean until this hit." The younger man said.

"Tell me . . . how many dead."

The third man sighed before speaking. "They're still going over the bodies but the death toll is defiantly fifty dead, dozens more wounded from the trampling that followed the gunfire. Some of those people who died in the Diet were just kids. The Girl Scouts were doing a presentation on natural urban beautification. I just got back from the Diet ruins and there are still a lot of parents are really crowding up the place. It is pure anarchy over there, local units are trying to keep order, but there's too many parents trying to get inside stopping paramedics from doing their jobs."

The older man didn't answer directly. Instead he said: "I'll take it from here. You go make your official report."

When the officer left, the second man spoke for the first time. "I can't believe that someone would do something like this. I mean, she doesn't look like a killer."

"So tell me Mister, exactly what does a killer look like?"

"Easy Inspector, I only meant that she looks too young to be killing people."

"The NFA always use the young ones. They know kids like these are too stupid to disobey orders."

The beginning of a heated debate was halted by another police officer, this one from the Terrorist Investigation Unit. "Sir, I ran the prints through everything, NPA, local agencies, nothing. I even tried international databases; CIA, Interpol, still nothing. We even tried to run an image scan through all the hospitals but we can't find any records of her birth. I tried her wrist tattoo but it's fake, and the name is an alias."

"Search harder. Someone birthed this bitch and she lived somewhere and she bought things from someone. There are records on everybody, you need to- you _better_ find them.

Their conversation ended at that point, leaving Natsuki confused and afraid. _Do they think I'm a killer?_ Natsuki thought to herself. But just as frightening was the thought that they were right. She found the idea of killing someone in cold blood repulsive but was her innocence assured just because she was disgusted by such an act? No it wasn't, she had no proof of her innocence to convince them, not even enough to appease her own conscience. They accused her of murder, and for all she knew they were right.

The men guided Natsuki into another room unaware that she was awake. But her cover ended quickly when the gurney came to a stop and the blindfold was ripped from her face exposing her to harsh lights glaring from above. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was in an interrogation room somewhere below the hospital. Around her was a small group of police officers staring down at her; none of them look happy. Across their faces she could see the anger, the hate, and even a little bit of fear. From their faces Natsuki learned that her guilt had already been decided without the benefit of judge or jury.

Even with her restraints, Natsuki found she could move her head from side to side, and there was enough room for her to lift her head and shoulders up to a limited degree. The police made no move to stop her as she was not going anywhere. Still silent, they watched her with cold eyes waiting for the Chief Inspector to make his first move.

A mirror was in front of her, only it wasn't really a mirror but a one-way window that prevented Natsuki from seeing any of the people on the other side of the glass but it was useful with its reflective surface. In its reflection she saw herself as a young woman, beaten and bloody, a deep gash on the upper area of her forehead, just below the hairline. All over her body were several other smaller cuts marring the skin. She still had the look of beauty, underneath it all, her hair dark blue, eyes green as emeralds. She was pretty, bruises notwithstanding. Natsuki recognized nothing in what she saw.

"Enjoy your nap?" Natsuki recognized the voice as the man pushing her gurney with the angry voice, he is the Chief Inspector. Looking at him she could tell he is the oldest in the room by far; Natsuki could see sprouts of white hair underneath his hat. "So why did you blow up the Diet?" He asked her none too kindly.

"I don't . . . I don't know if I did. I can't remember anything."

"You don't know?" The Chief Inspector repeated with a sneer on his lips. He moved fast for an old man, she never saw it coming. The blow came seemingly out of nowhere hitting her on the left side of her head the pain amplified by her previous wounds. "You bitch! You kill all of those people and then you try to give us this bullshit about you not remembering? So, amnesia is your excuse? How convenient is that?"

From the corner of her eye Natsuki saw some of the officers frown in the Inspector's direction. They were not pleased with the way the interrogation was going. But she had no faith that they would raise their hand against their boss on her behalf. And why should they if they thought she was a murderer.

The Chief Inspector put his face only inches away from Natsuki's. He was so close she could smell vapors of stale cigarettes on his breath. "We've got everything on you. Video, weapons with your fingerprints, and dozens of witnesses. All you have is this pathetic amnesia story. Do you think that's really going to hold up in court? Your ass is mine lady!"

"You must have the wrong person, I would never kill civilians!" She didn't say "I didn't kill anyone" for she felt this real feeling that she had killed in her past. Natsuki's desperation got the better of her and suddenly, Natsuki found her anger and channeled it towards her captors. "You have shown me nothing that proves my guilt!"

"Fine, we'll play it your way. You want to see what you did?" The Chief Inspector turned to one of the officers. "You; go get the tape from the evidence room." He turned back to Natsuki. "Remember when I said we have video of you? One of the security cameras caught you setting charges in the basement storage rooms of the Diet."

The officer came back with a small disk which was silently given to the Inspector. The video chip was then put into the media player and an image appeared on the screen. As the Inspector said, the picture showed some kind of on-site storage facility below the Diet itself. The area was slightly dim as it was an older mostly unused space where unneeded furniture was kept. But the light was sufficient enough for Natsuki to see a single person in the large room. Kneeling down to one of the supporting columns was a figure taking objects out of a bag and sticking these things to the pillars of the rooms.

Once she was finished, the person looked at the camera one time, but that was all Natsuki needed. The figure was female, had dark blue hair, average height and build, pretty face with green eyes so similar her own. The person was her, and Natsuki realized that the objects that she didn't recognize just seconds ago were high-yield explosives.

It all hit Natsuki at once, threatening to overwhelm her. She lay perfectly still, but the room spun, turning everything into an undistinguishable blur, the people before her merging into one incoherent mass. _He was right_, Natsuki thought before she lost conscious, _I blew up the Diet_, _I killed all those people_. She found that she could no longer breathe. The dam broke, the cloying darkness took Natsuki under, and mercifully, she thought no more.

The woman, Natsuki, woke up physically better than the last time she had been awake. But the knowledge that she gained left her guilt-ridden and confused. She felt weighed down. She could not fathom a reason to commit such an atrocity, and yet the person on the video looked just like her down to the very clothes on her back. There was no denying that it was anyone else but her. Natsuki tried to rub her throbbing head to soothe her headache, but found that she was kept restrained, her street clothes replaced with a thin baby-blue hospital gown. She was kept bound to her bed like an invalid on a stretcher. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and looking around she discovered she had been moved to a private room. All was silent around her and she trembled from the cold, either by cruelty or mistake no blankets covered her and the cotton outfit did little to fend off the nightly chill.

The quietness of her room was broken by the sudden sound of a key turning in a lock. The movement was slow, as if the person believed that such painstaking movements were stealthy. The fugitive movements further galvanized the woman into critical thinking. First of all, who was it? Could it be the police, wanting further information? Unlikely as this was their place, why should they bother being quite? Natsuki continued to lay prone in her bed, not sure of what to do.

The door opened and the person slowly pushed the door further inward, the light from the hallway spilling into her previously darkened room. Whoever the person was, he was trying very hard not to make any noise; though his strained attempt was commendable, his execution was sloppy. The stranger crept closer to the bedside and Natsuki, her eyes now closed, tried not to let on that she was aware of the intruder.

"Is that you, Natsuki?" She could now tell that her uninvited guest was a young man.

The lights in her room flickered on; she detected the sudden change of light through her eyelids. She opened her eye and began blinking until her eyes focused properly. While all this was going on, the young man shut the door behind him and moved closer to the head of the bed, she could see his face now, he was evidently happy to have found her.

"Holy hell, it is you! Ah, where are my manners; it's me Aki and it's an honor and a privilege to finally see you again. I've always wanted to get your autograph and shake your hand and whatnot but I guess this isn't the time for any of that. Here, let me help you with those restraints."

"You know who I am?" She asked. From her prone, face-up position she took in the details of the man, Aki, who at the moment was kneeling at her bedside unfastening her straps with a small knife so finely sharpened that it could cut deeply into both leather bonds with minimal effort. On his body he wore a custodian's uniform and a baseball cap pulled low over his head to obscure his face. From his shoulder he removed a duffle bag and set down on the floor. As far as the clothes went, Natsuki could tell that these were not his, the outfit hung loose on his tall, wiry frame better suited for someone older and stockier. The baseball cap had someone else's name written on it in magic marker.

"Do I know who you are? Of course I do! Don't you remember me? I guess not. You're a hero, a hero to all in the NFA. My hero, if it means anything to you. You've given SPAYER something to moan about. I don't know what you did, but you must have done something really big to piss them off this much to frame you the way they did."

"SPAYER? Aki, I don't understand. I don't remember anything."

"Are you for real?" Aki boldly touched Natsuki's scalp and felt the bumps beneath the mounds of bandages. "Oh shit . . ." He muttered, realization dawning on him. "Damn, can't say this is going to make my job any easier. Listen, I can't completely tell you what you did because I wasn't there, but I can help you remember who you are. But not now, in the meantime you're going to have to trust me, we've got to get out of here. Until we reach higher ground, just know that whatever they told you was a lie. You saved lives Natsuki; you're a hero to us all."

The words of a benevolent stranger did her a lot of good. Natsuki lifted herself from her bed, swinging her legs around to the edge of the cot. "Thank you, Aki. So, where do we go from here?" She placed both bare feet on the cold tile floor and stood, her movements were only slightly unsteady, the sleep restored her vitality.

"Like riding a bike isn't it? Think you're well enough to run yet?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice, so yeah, I'm ready."

The smile left Aki's face. "I wish I could say otherwise but you're right. I didn't meet anyone coming on the way in but I doubt our good luck is going to hold."

"There weren't any guards outside my door?"

"As far as I could tell, the government wanted to hide you before anymore interrogation and was planning on moving you someplace more secure in the morning. I'll bet that you were left here without most of the security staff knowing who you were and your guards are off getting coffee or something. Either way, somebody is bound to come back and check on you and you dressed like that isn't going to help us either, here, put these on." Aki handed her his duffel bag. "It's all second hand I'm afraid, but it's been washed, and more importantly, it will fit you like a glove and won't attract attention. You'll also find your favorite gun, bullets, and some money. Sorry for the low amount of ammo, but it's all I could come up with on such short notice. "

Wasting no time to verbally agree, Natsuki accepted the proffered present. Aki was considerate enough and turned his back to her as she changed into more appropriate attire. As she undressed she saw scars on her body but these were not from the afternoon. She did not know it know, but was looking at mementos of a violent youth. Mercifully, she could not remember but she got these during the experiments that SPAYER scientist performed on her. Natsuki traced one with her finger before forcing herself back to the present and continued changing.

What she changed into were a pair of dark green pants, black hooded sweater, black winter jacket, tube socks, casual hiking boots, and bra. Natsuki silently thanked Aki for his foresight as hers was taken; most jailors took these from their female prisoners as a typical measure to safeguard against suicide. From the folds of the sweater, Natsuki found a ski mask which she placed in her pocket. The clothing manufacture, Princess Wear, was common and the style popular among Japan's athletic young adult females. With these clothes, Natsuki was confident that she wouldn't stick out so much in a crowd, provided her face was hidden.

"A mask would look too inconspicuous even in this time of year. Do you have something else to hide my face?" Natsuki asked as she finished lacing up the boots.

"I've got you covered." Aki produced from his own pocket a small tube that when fully unwrapped, looked like a young woman's face. "This is "Bakeneko, you can mold it with your hands and it makes a whole new face for you. Just stick it on your face like so and away you go. It's perfect if you want to avoid an army of cops chasing after you."

"The downside is that it won't last forever. Bakeneko usually has an opportunity window of six to eight hours before the adhesive wears off and you have to drop it. But don't worry; there is an outpost near the Tokyo train station. Right now we're in Kawasaki so I'm afraid we've got some traveling ahead of us. But inside the power train station there are some lockers where we have some more supplies that we can use. Sorry."

"Sorry for"- Natsuki grunted as Aki ripped off the bandages on her head and face.

"Sorry Natsuki, but it would look really weird if there were lumps underneath the Bakeneko. For it to be effective, it has to be flush with the face. She nodded and let him mold the material onto her head. Had there been a mirror handy she would have been impressed with the handiwork.

Natsuki emptied out the last three items from the duffle bag. The first was a wallet with thirty thousand Yen inside. There was no identification so Natsuki assumed that she would have to forge her own later. The second and third items were a small pistol and ammo. She held it in her hand, amazed at its lightness, and how familiar it seemed to her. Her fingers curled around the butt of the gun, finding comfort in the weapon.

"This is the Belgium made VDR-PDW 9mm sidearm. It's as old as the hills but popular for a reason; it's an accurate, reliable handgun. I took the liberty to load it with armor piercing rounds. Just like riding a bike isn't it?" asked Aki. He watched her, extend the butt stock, she wrapped her hands around the plastic foregrip, check the hammer, test the iron sights, and then switch the safety switch and the hellfire trigger to single shot to three round burst mode and then back again. He had been told that Natsuki was really good with a gun. Based on the scrutiny she examined the weapon, he could tell Natsuki knew what she was doing.

"I think so." Natsuki took a second to examine her gun further. Her confidence rising as she did, she was now sure that she could handle herself in a fight should the need arise. _And when we're safe, Aki and I need to talk._ "Okay Aki, let's go."

The man named Aki nodded, shouldering his now empty duffle bag, and the two left the room, Natsuki followed behind him. Not a word was exchanged between the two because she trusted that Aki knew what he was doing. For now, she followed her new friend down the silent corridor. She had the definite impression that there were few people to run into. It was late at night so most of the staff had gone home, leaving only a small contingent of nurses and guards to look after the patients and the building.

On each side of her door was a chair that should have had a body in them each. Natsuki supposed that these were for the people charged with watching over her. They seemed to have snuck off somewhere. To her right was a small table with two cups of coffee. She dipped a finger into the brown colored liquid and found the drink had gone lukewarm. They must have planned to have come back soon.

Natsuki's thoughts were interrupted by an older man. By chance, an old security officer stumbled upon them. He yelled to them, more confused than angry but he knew something was up; the guard knew every sanitation worker at the hospital and didn't recognize the young man in the ill fitting custodian uniform. Further, his officers had stressed that no one was to enter or leave the very room Natsuki and Aki just left. He may not have recognized Natsuki with her mask, but that didn't matter. The truth would be made clear soon enough and Natsuki couldn't risk being captured or held again. When they did nothing, he shouted for them again, this time more forcefully. He dropped a can of diet soda that he had been holding; his hands now sought his sidearm.

_Oh no! _Natsuki thought to herself. There wasn't even enough time to consider about running away from this so she let instinct take its course; she lunged forwards, deliberately towards him, right hand raised to strike.

"Oh shit!" The guard yelled. He never expected this kind of approach. Twenty-three years patrolling the halls and the worst he previously contended with were disruptive patients and rowdy teenagers. Natsuki could tell that he had been feeling tired, fatigue weighing down on the older man, and because of that, his fingers clumsily worked his holster. His right hand got the gun free just in time to drop it when Natsuki delivered a powerful chop to his wrist bone. With a yelp, he released his hold on the gun. Hours later when reporting the event to his superiors, he would recall that the subject was down the hall, several meters away. But that couldn't possibly be right for when she attacked she seemed to suddenly just appear right in front of him.

The weapon clattered to the ground, but Natsuki didn't bend down to scoop it up just yet. Instead she finished off her opponent with a quick and effective jab to his left kidney. The powerful punch made him fall backwards into a crumpled heap on the floor. Gasping for breath on his back, he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. The other security guard approaching from Natsuki's rear was more of a threat. Aki shouted a warning but it was too late, the tail end of his exclamation drowned out by the sound of gunfire.

Natsuki turned just in time to get struck in the left shoulder by a 9mm bullet. She screamed, but more on reflex than actual pain. Stunned, she realized that the shot did little damage. A quick look at the shoulder showed no blood and only a small tear in the clothes and if she thought to look down to the ground she would have seen the bullet, all but perfectly flattened. The only evidence of the injury was a small patch of bruised skin otherwise she was without blemish. The guard was more shaken than she was; he stood still his mouth agape. She had the advantage of knocking him down and took the initiative. Four quick steps and she was on him, she gave a solid kick to his right leg and he folded to the ground, this was followed by another hard hit to the head this time with her right fist.

"Holy hell, if we didn't need to make tracks before . . ." Aki muttered as he took the first guard's gun and ammo. He didn't bother to smash the radio, as by now the whole hospital had no doubt heard the pistol shots. Natsuki didn't hear him; her ears still hang from the gunfire but understood the urgency of the situation. She took the other guard's gun; stuffing it behind her back, underneath her coat. It went with the one Aki gave her, and Natsuki pocketed the spare clips. With that, the two ran down a flight of stairs down to the ground floor.

By avoiding the elevators, they had eliminated the possibility of an inescapable ambush set up by the hospital security. Notwithstanding, there was still the high probability of meeting further opposition from the guards. Such a possibility became a reality; two guards, pistols drawn, ran toward them from the ground floor main hallway to meet them. While running, Natsuki fired several rounds from the guard's pistol. Shooting in motion spoiled her aim, her bullets harmlessly flew by but misses were what Natsuki wanted. Even though they tried to stop her, they were only doing what their supervisors told them to, unaware of her innocence. She refused to kill those who never intentionally wronged her.

The hospital guards were caught unprepared. Before this, the most intimidating threat they had encountered were obnoxious teenagers with skateboards and ill-gained cigarettes loitering around the hospital entrance. Up against this they panicked, and each dove for cover. One ran into one of the unused patient rooms, the other, the more courageous of the two, overturned a hallway gurney on its side as a makeshift barricade. Aki followed the coward into the room, leaving Natsuki to handle the more dangerous threat.

She fired another bullet to get the guard to crouch down again. He threw himself to the ground as Natsuki knew he would. Seconds later, he prepped himself to rise again, but by then it was too late as Natsuki was on him. She reached over the obstacle and with left hand she grabbed his right, pushing the hand with the firearm away from her; the guard squeezed off a round that was nowhere near her. With her right, she punched him hard in one of his kidneys, bringing him to his knees.

Natsuki had another non-lethal takedown to her name. Since she had no handcuffs, she delivered a shift elbow blow to his face, effectively taking him out of action. She moved over to his side and bent down. Her deft fingers worked the guns magazine release and an almost full clip fell into her hand. She pocketed this along with the extra clips the guard had on his utility belt, adding these to her small but expanding arsenal.

As before, Natsuki didn't bother to smash the radio, after all the racket they had caused earlier, the chance of a stealthily escape was beyond plausible. Or maybe the noise was a blessing, they encountered little resistance. It wasn't hard to imagine both patients and staff hiding in their rooms, their self-preservation stopping them from investigating and otherwise interfering. The hospital security force was either too small or too incompetent to mount another offensive. They still had to hurry for certainly the police would be one their way.

Natsuki and her rescuer Aki breached the main entrance and ran past the reception desk. It was staffed only by a lone woman cowering beneath the desk too afraid to move to safety. Natsuki hated herself for inspiring such menace, but it had to be done. Otherwise the waiting room was empty of people; the only sounds Natsuki heard were the claxon emergency siren which was far more prominent than the mindless chatter of a game show on the television in the lounge.

Freedom was just up ahead in the form of the buildings exit. The glass doors refused to slide open, possibly because of an emergency lockdown. Natsuki remedied the problem by heaving a chair thorough the glass, with her strength the lounge furniture smashed the glass into tiny shards saving Aki from wasting bullets to shoot it to pieces. It was foolish for the guards to leave the exit unguarded like they did. The police had not arrived yet, and so they ran into the cover of night, both of them welcoming the concealing darkness. It was their ally, shielding them from unfriendly eyes. Natsuki and Aki ran down the road, they wouldn't stop for a while. Natsuki had the urge to stop and talk to Aki now, but as before saw the urgency of the situation and continued to run. Down the unusually silent street they ran away completely unopposed. For now.

14


End file.
